but baby, we don't get to choose
by vouivres
Summary: "I'm Thomas. Thomas Arclight." They shake hands and so it begins anew. (He will remember this moment much, much later when their story ends again and they meet on the battlefield where so many have died already and her eyes are all wrong and cold and dead and she's no longer his Rio.)


**Five**. She's gone. **Four**. She's still gone and they say she will not return to their side, not now, not ever. **Three**. The rain is cold but her eyes are colder and he has lost. Her. Him. Both of them. **Two**. He dies again, he's used to it at this point, it's inevitable like a bullet to the heart. **One**. He closes his eyes and is back to square one. This time he will save them all.

Outside the sun is slowly setting, painting the walls in shades of red and orange, and he's still huddled into a plastic chair in the corner of a sparsely furnished hospital room with a single occupied bed, exhausted and already half-asleep. The nurses have all tried and failed to send him back to his own room hours ago and by this point the entire staff has grudgingly accepted that no, that stubborn burn victim with the fucked up face and the highly questionable attitude will not leave the Kamishiro boy's side for longer than a few seconds at the time, thank you very much. From time to time they bring him food that tastes like old cardboard with something that vaguely resembles mashed potatoes, and shake their heads at him in despair - surely it must be uncomfortable to just sit in the same place for hours on end, glaring daggers at anyone who dares to enter the room - bur for the most part they just leave him be.

Right now Ryōga's shallow, rasping breaths and the monotone beeping of his heart monitor are the only sounds disrupting the eerie stillness hanging over the room like a shroud, and the very thought of them suddenly falling silent fills Thomas with a cold dread, turns the blood in his veins to solid ice. According to one of the more talkative nurses, a very sympathetic older lady with her greying hair in a messy bun and laugh lines around her eyes, Ryōga's condition is no longer critical though it's obvious that he's still in pretty bad shape and hasn't woken up even once since Thomas has dragged him here. They must've painted a pretty messed up picture the day before, stumbling into the hopsital with their singed hair and burnt clothes, almost every inch of their skin covered in blisters, blood and soot. Absentmindedly Thomas rubs his bandaged hand together and winces when the wounds start throbbing again.

This morning the police has talked to him and taken his statement which had been nothing but a big fat lie. Some bullshit about how they had been just at the warehouse to hang out and faulty wires must've caused a short circuit and so on. Fortunately Heartland Police tends to be a bit ... slow when it comes to solving crimes that got nothing to do with those corrupt upper class assholes paying them - his family has dealt with them during the time of his father's disappearance and they have been completely fucking useless. So it comes as no surprise to him that no one seems to suspect foul play concerning the fire. The building had been old and a disaster waiting to happen anyway. Their words, not his.

They've also asked about his family and while his initial reaction had been a bitter laugh, Thomas had then proceeded to try and explain their domestic situation without mentioning their not-so-dead father and his all-encompassing thirst for revenge. Granted, for a moment there selling out Tron had been incredibly tempting after the stunt he had pulled (and maybe, just maybe they would all be better of without him) but the thought of his brother's reactions to such a betrayal had been enough to get him to bite his tongue and not breathe a single word about what's actually going on in the Arclight household. They have left with the number of their old landline that has long been disconnected and the promise to notify his family about his accident as soon as possible. As if any of them would even care. Actually no, he's being unfair. Michael would. Michael cares too much and loves too hard and one day it will be his downfall. Chris however is so devoted to their father that he sees nothing and no one besides the cause they're sworn to. And Tron, Tron is lost to them all.

When he glances at the motionless body on the bed, illuminated by the evening sun still seeping through the curtains, he can't help but wonder where Ryōga's family might be. He has overheard the nurses talking about how his next of kin has already been notified but they have yet to show up to pay the other boy a visit. In Thomas' fucked up head it sounds almost like a tragedy, written by one of those long forgotten poets their father used to read to them a lifetime ago. A tale of two lonely boys, connected by an accident that had not actually been an accident, whose families don't give a fuck about them and wow, he's being pathetic again, making up weird scenarios to emphasize just how much of a broken mess he is. Huffing he shakes his head at his own inanity. It's not like he knows anything about Kamishiro Ryōga other than the fact that daddy dearest has taken special interest in the unfortunate boy for some incomprehensive reason.

His train of thought about families and failures - namely himself - is rudely interrupted by a sudden commotion in the hallway and just like that his earlier fatigue is gone, leaving him wide awake and alert and ready to fight if necessary.

"For the last time, I don't give a shit about your stupid visiting hours," a female voice yells. "Let me see my brother right fucking now or I swear to god I will burn this entire fucking hospital to the ground."

There are other voices too, one he recognizes as that one persistent nurse who has scolded him like seven times more than anyone else. She sounds pretty agitated and Thomas can't help but feel a pang of malicious glee at that.

"Kamishiro-san, I get that you're upset but please-"

Thomas freezes like a stupid deer in the headlights. The rest of the nurse's sentence is cut short by the sound of a door slamming shut and then he hears light footsteps quickly approaching the room he's currently holed up in. For a moment he cannot breathe through the surge of irrational panic threatening to overwhelm him. The prospect of actually facing a member of Ryōga's family like right now is too much, way too much, and he feels sick to his stomach. At this point he's probably going to throw up the second they enter.

Before he can think of a way out that doesn't involve jumping out of the window, the door is being pushed open and a girl (she who will eat up his entire heart and leave him empty) storms into the room like a warrior queen on her way to conquer the lands of her enemies. Thomas does not throw up but it's a close call. He immediately recognizes her. They have the same face, she and Ryōga, the same haunted look in their eye, the same grief etched into every line of their features.

When she spots the stil form of the body on the hospital bed, wrapped in layers and layers of bandages, connected to dozens of machines monitoring Ryōga's vitals, a small, anguished sound escapes her.

"Oh Ryōga," she breathes and hurries to his side, falling to her knees next to the bed. "Oh brother. I'm so sorry that I'm late but I'm here now. It's okay, I'm here." Her hands are shaking when she reaches out to touch his face and that's when she notices that there's someone else in the room. Someone who doesn't belong. Thomas quickly averts his eyes when she looks at him, her gaze piercing through his very soul like a spear of ice.

"And who the hell are you?" she asks, arms crossed over her chest defiensively like she's afraid that he might hurt her and Thomas' heart skips a beat. He has already hurt her brother, hasn't he? Maybe her caution is not completely unfounded.

"I brought him here," he breaks the silence that follows her question, and takes a deep breath. "Everything that has happened is my fault."

She raises her eyebrows and cocks her head to the side. "I was told there was a fire."

And just like that he's back at the warehouse, activating Flaming Hell Blessing because it's the only card his father has ever given to him and he had told Thomas to use it during this specific duel and the thing is, his father loves him, right, he would never hurt him, never, never, never - but the flames are already licking at his face and Ryōga's screams are echoing from the walls in a cacophony of pure, unrestrained pain and the skin is melting from his hands while he's desperately trying to pry the open the white hot doors and Ryōga is still and silent in his arms and the entire world is burning around them. It's in this moment that he realizes his father will never return.

"There was," he tells her, a bitter smile on his lips. "And I started it."

Her reaction to these words surprises him, to put it mildly. Any sane person would do the sensible thing and immediately call the police to get him arrested and attempted murder. God knows he deserves it. But the girl in front of him has either lost her mind or really doesn't care about the fact that he has almost killed Ryōga.

"Well, why'd you do it?" she asks, curious and not the least bit angry. Like it's perfectly normal for her to have a chat with her brother's would-be-murdered next to his unconscious body. "No offense but you look like something the cat dragged in and forgot to bury and not like some madman who goes around and starts fires just for shits and giggles."

Unbidden, the image of his father's face comes to mind, twisted far beyond recognition, a black hole ready to swallow the universe for the sake of revenge. Tron is definitely a madman who would start fires for shits and giggles. Hell, he already has - indirectly, through Thomas, of course - and knowing him he's probably giggling for both of them right now. Suddenly he feels like crying.

"Trusted the wrong person, I guess." He shrugs to hide the shudder that travels through his entire body at these words. Saying it out loud makes it real and boy, it fucking hurts. "Shouldn't have done that but I've learnt my lesson now. It was naive to think that there's enough of him left for us to salvage."

She frowns and he knows he's already said way too much - Chris would have his head on a platter if he'd heard that reply just now - but there's something about this girl that urges him to share all his deepest, darkest secrets with her. It almost scares him.

"Doesn't sound like it was your fault, to be honest. More like someone put you up to it."

"I started the fire," he repeats stubbornly because he did, there's no point in denying it. He refuses to blame his own naivité on his father. Ryōga's injuries are on him, and him alone. "I hurt him."

And that's really all it comes down to in the end because Kamishiro Ryōga has trusted him and Thomas had to go and betray that trust like some fucking cliché comic book villain, hadn't he? He should've realized that this duel had been just another part of Tron's elaborate schemes because nothing their father says or does these days is without reason.

"You saved him," she insists, equally stubborn. "Just look at you, you ruined your own face to get him out of there. Stop saying it's your fault when it's obvious that you've just been following orders. I'm not blind, you know, I can see that you're hurting."

It's hopeless. He might as well be talking to a wall of bricks and try to convince them to see reason.

"You're fucking stupid," he tells her, irritated. "What do you even know about me, huh? Maybe I'm still following orders and this is a trap. Maybe I was using your brother as bait to lure you here so I can off the both of you. Ever thought about that, princess?"

"You're fucking stupid," she instantly throws his own words back at his face. "Do you really think you'd still be in Ryōga's room if I had any reason to believe that?" She rolls her eyes. „It might come as a surprise to you but just because I couldn't have been here earlier doesn't mean I didn't know about what happened. The nurses told me all about you, that you were having a complete meltdown in the ER when they tried to seperate you from Ryōga. I told them to just let you stay with him until my arrival."

"You ..." He hesitates. Everything from escaping the warehouse to ending up in this room, watching over Ryōga is a blurr but he does remember that indeed at some point someone has taken Ryōga away from him while hands had been holding him down. He vaguely recalls himself screaming the other boy's name until his throat had felt raw and wet and the only noise still coming from his mouth had been a broken whimper. "You knew," he whispers and closes his eyes for a moment. "I couldn't just leave him alone. It didn't seem right. I was so scared he would die. I don't want to be a murderer."

Pain flashes across her face. A pain so profound and terrible and familiar that all he can do is to try and keep breathing. He knows this pain, knows it so well and for a second it feels like he's drowning in it, sinking like a stone, deeper and deeper, into the dark, into the cold. Her magenta eyes widen and he knows she feel it too, the invisible thread between them, made of sorrow, made of grief and fear and loneliness. They are the same, she and him. Then she regains her composure and the moment is gone like a quick gust of wind.

"Don't worry, he's gonna be fine." Her voice is shaking with unshead tears. With a sad smile she carefully takes Ryōga's hand into her own, presses it against her cheek and closes her eyes. "He's tougher than he looks."

Suddenly he feels like an intruder. He thinks of his own brothers, of (Chris) V and the ever-present sadness that he wraps around himself like a cloak, of (Michael) III and that ridiculous hope of his that will be crushed under the heels of their own father rather sooner than later. He has loved them once, he's sure he has but - that had been a long time ago. Back when their father hadn't been a madman in the body of a child and love had been more than just a fancy synonym for the pain that ties them together so tight that they cannot even breathe. Looking at her, fussing over Ryōga hurts in ways that cannot be explained. He starts to get up from his chair.

"Where do you think you're going?," she asks and he shrugs, realizing that he actually has no idea. In theory he should return home, even when he hasn't been officially released yet, but the thought of facing Tron and his own special brand of craziness makes his stomach crawl.

"Somewhere else," he mumbles. But when he attempts to walk past her, her hand shoots out and grabs his wrist.

"You don't need to leave." It sounds almost like a plea and he hesitates.

"Why not? We don't even know each other." At this point he's getting more than a little irritated. What's up with her trying to coddle him like some helpless kitten she's found on the street.

"Yeah." She doesn't let go of his wrist. "But you saved my brother and you stayed with him so he wouldn't be alone and I want to get to know you."

"I almost killed him!" He lashes out at her but she stays completely calm. Nothing he says or does seems to faze her at all.

"But you didn't. You risked your own life to get him out of there." She lets go of his wrist to point at his bandaged face and his hand involuntarily flies up to where the wound pounds and pounds and pounds. His sight on this eye might never return. He doesn't give a shit. To save Ryōga's life he would've given both of his eyes. "Stop blaming yourself already."

For some reason this gets him even more worked up. Anger is burning in his chest like the the fiery hell his own father has trapped him in.

"You have absolutely no idea who I am and what I've done," he hisses. "I'm not a good person and you need to stay the fuck away from me."

She gets up from the floor next to Ryōga's bed to face his wrath. There is anger in her eyes too, finally, but when she opens her mouth the words that come out are not at all what he had expected.

"Do I look like I care? You're just spewing the same bullshit my brother is so fond of. 'I'm not a good person, all I do is hurting people' like give me a break. He too like to pretend that he's a cold-hearted bitch who needs no friends when in reality all he wants is someone to actually care." She holds up her hand when Thomas attempts to interrupt her. "Shut up, I don't wanna hear it. I have no one but him. You saved him and absolutely nothing you say will ever change that fact. Are we clear?" He just stares at her and nods, actually speechless. "Good. And for the record, I'm not a good person either, but that doesn't mean I have to beat myself up over it." She extends her hand towards him. "So let's try this again. Hi, my name is Rio, and it's nice to meet you."

He takes her hand, still a bit dumbfounded.

"IV," he murmurs the name his father has so graciously bestowed upon him after his unexpected return to the land of the living. Just another reminder of how much they've lost. Rio frowns at him.

"That's not your name," she concludes. "I want to know the real you and that means you have to tell me your real name. Come on, it's only fair after I've told you mine."

He hesitates but then he thinks 'Fuck it.' Tron has set him up, almost killed him, has almost made him kill Ryōga. Right now he owes him nothing.

"I'm Thomas. Thomas Arclight."

They shake hands and so it begins.

(He will remember this moment much, much later when their story ends again and they meet on the battlefield where so many have died already and her eyes are all wrong and cold and dead and she's no longer his Rio.)


End file.
